


Early Bird Special

by eastwood



Series: Bartender with Benefits [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastwood/pseuds/eastwood
Summary: As a matter of fact, there is a secret menu. Just have to know what to ask for and when.





	1. Chapter 1

Jesse doesn’t wake up when that stupidly early alarm goes off anymore, unless it’s only long enough to reclaim the comforter and scoot into the warm spot Gabe leaves behind after he gets out of bed. The man puts off heat like a damn house fire all night, but then Jesse misses it when he’s gone.  
  
He does wake up when he hears Gabe get back from his morning run, though; the sound of the shower turning on is his cue for one of the best parts of his whole week. The first few times he’d stayed over he’d slept through it, not realizing what he was missing. Eventually he’d figured it out.  
  
He cracks an eye open when Gabe comes out of the bathroom a short while later, drips of water rolling down from his towel dried hair and otherwise naked as a breeze. Fucking gorgeous. Jesse rolls onto his side and watches sleepily while Gabe digs out clean clothes from the bureau, starting with those sexy so-tight shorts he wears.  
  
“Show’s over already?” he drawls as Gabe shakes them out, ready to put on. “Turn around a lil’ for me at least, baby.” He grins and winks when Gabe shoots a look at him.  
  
“You wake up early just to say that?” Gabe asks, flatly.  
  
“Just to get a good look at you,” Jesse corrects, one-hundred-percent honest. He’ll never get tired of the sight, no matter how many times he’s seen it by now.  
  
Gabe snorts, and turns back to the bureau.  
  
Jesse scoots up in bed to sit back against the headboard, an idea coming to mind that he’s been turning over for a while and can’t see any reason not to spit it out already. “Hey, so I’ve been thinking.”  
  
“That’s new,” Gabe mutters.  
  
Jesse ignores him. “Can I eat you out sometime? I mean, if that’s somethin’ you’re into.”  
  
And Gabe pauses, halfway shimmied into his underwear. Then, very slowly, pulls them up the rest of the way. He turns around and props his hands on the edge of the bureau to lean there, head tilted to the side, considering him with a certain light in his eye that makes Jesse’s stomach flip even as his dick perks up and takes interest. It’s the same kind of look Gabe gives him whenever Jesse’s in for a long, slow, tortuous evening, before he’s killed half-dead by a blinding orgasm.  
  
If he’d known Gabe was such a goddamn sadist when he met him—well, he would’ve probably fallen head over heels for him even faster, but still. It can’t be healthy.  
  
“You want to eat me out?” Gabe asks, casual as can be while he’s sucking all the air out of the room like being trapped with a tiger about to maul somebody.  
  
Jesse swallows. “Yeah? Yes. I would very much like that.”  
  
Gabe studies him another moment. “Ask nicely.”  
  
Holy shit. He might never stop being surprised at the shit Gabe agrees to so easily, cool as anything. He snaps his open mouth shut, teeth clicking, and scrambles to his knees, bolt upright. “Please?” he offers, with his best begging eyes.  
  
Gabe just raises an eyebrow.  
  
Jesse tries again, really going for it this time, clasping his hands together like a starving orphan. “Please honey, will you sit on my face and let me eat your perfect, beautiful ass until my tongue falls off? I’ll do anythin’ you want, promise.”  
  
Gabe smirks, then, and shucks his underwear right back off. “Deal. Lie down.”  
  
Jesse obeys immediately, getting on his back with his heart pounding and dick aching from how fast he just got hard. He wonders if he should take off his boxers, too, but Gabe is climbing onto the mattress and he forgets all about it.  
  
Gabe pauses a moment and Jesse is ready to haul him on top of himself before he finally decides to swing a leg over Jesse’s chest and kneel facing the other direction, leaving that perfect, _beautiful_ ass a few mouthwatering inches too far away.  
  
Jesse does not let that deter him. Eyes locked on target, he smooths both hands up Gabe’s thighs, planted on either side of him solid as fucking tree trunks and probably strong enough to crack his rib cage open like the jaws of life if Gabe felt like it. Just the thought makes his dick twitch. He creeps his palms over Gabe’s hips, and finally brings them to rest, one on each fat, supple cheek. He gives a testing squeeze, and has to bite his lips at the sight.  
  
“Goddamn,” he breathes, kneading at Gabe’s ass, watching his fingers sink in. “You’re so fuckin’ fine, baby. If I’d known you’d let me I’d’ve asked for this the day we met.” He hears a chuckle rumble from above him, and Gabe shifts back a little on his knees, balls hanging heavy between his open legs.  
  
“You really want me to sit?”  
  
“Fuck yes,” Jesse groans, already too impatient. “Come on, sweetheart, I don’t care if it kills me. I’ll go out the happiest man on earth.”  
  
“You’re an idiot,” Gabe says, but it sounds amused, and then his ass is _right_ _there_ close enough to kiss. Jesse pulls him down by the hips the last bit so he can bury his face in it and open his mouth.  
  
Gabe tastes clean, a little like soap, still slightly damp from his shower and Jesse licks over him, hungry, laving the flat of his tongue wide to get him wet again. He clutches at Gabe’s ass, spreading him open further to give himself more room to lick and kiss at, grazing just the edge of his teeth on a spot behind Gabe’s balls.  
  
He feels Gabe flinch, and he makes a soft sound of apology that’s completely smothered as he licks there instead, and from there continues right up to the delicious little muscle that goes tense under the sweep of his tongue. He works over it worshipfully with his lips and mouth without pause as Gabe starts to relax and then he can lick _into_ him where it’s tight and smooth, muscle wet on muscle, spit drooling down his chin, so fucking hot and dirty he’s squirming with it. His heels digging into the mattress feel like they’re a thousand miles away when everything he wants is right here, centered on the tip of his tongue.  
  
He follows when Gabe tries to move, and groans when he’s shoved off by a hand on his forehead for his efforts.  
  
“Okay,” Gabe is saying, muted, up on his knees out of reach. “You want to fuck?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jesse breathes, because he is ready for that, so fucking ready, then he jerks as a hand wraps around his dick, and- that’s—“Oh shit, baby,” he moans when it clicks in his head that Gabe just rolled a condom onto _him_.  
  
And Gabe is already kneeling astride his hips, asking, “Alright?” looking back at him with heavy lidded eyes while Jesse only clutches at him and babbles yes yes _yes_ , it’s all he can do, and Gabe is lining him up with one hand and— _God_ , good lord in heaven. Jesse bites his lip hard enough to taste blood so he doesn’t come just from Gabe sinking onto him, so goddamn hot and tight and perfect, but he can’t help himself from fucking up and dragging Gabe down at the same time, getting all the rest of the way in with one shove.  
  
Gabe grunts and Jesse snaps his eyes open to gasp, “Fuck, sorry,” struggling to stay still now that it’s a little too late.  
  
“It’s fine,” Gabe says, and rocks over him: the bunch and flex of muscle in his thighs and up his back is mesmerizing, and the smallest slide over Jesse’s dick is _agonizing_. “I want to feel it.”  
  
Fuck. Jesse thinks he’ll carry the sound of him saying that to his grave. Which, at this rate, might happen sooner than he’d been counting on. He swallows, closes his eyes, and sends a quick prayer that he won’t finish before Gabe does. Then he gets a good hold on Gabe’s hips to do as he was told and really make him _feel_ _it_.  
  
The view he has of Gabe taking a rough, hard fuck from behind might be the most arousing thing Jesse’s ever seen, however, and he can’t quite bring himself not to watch his own hips smacking up against Gabe’s ass, making it shake, as his dick disappears inside again and again to be welcomed by heat and smooth muscle gripping him just right. And actually seeing Gabe stretched around the width of him—Lord it’s enough to drive anyone crazy, and Jesse already knows how weak he is for the man. He really didn’t have a chance in hell.  
  
It’s only when Gabe raises a hand to cup the nape of his own neck, fingers curling into the skin, and tilts his head back while still working along with the heavy thrusts from below, making such a pretty picture that Jesse thinks _oh no_ right before his climax crashes through him with ruthless, unstoppable force. He comes kicking his heels and hissing through his teeth because it’s so damn good he can’t keep from shaking apart but he didn’t want it end, not ever and certainly not yet.  
  
“Don’t move,” Gabe growls without stopping or turning around and Jesse almost whimpers, helpless to stop shuddering but doing his best with the limited faculties he’s been left with.  
  
It only takes Gabe a few more moments though, and Jesse still eats up what he can see of Gabe going tense, a quiet exhale, subdued as usual but devastatingly erotic in Jesse’s eyes. Especially from his present perspective.  
  
Then Gabe reaches back and wipes his dirty hand off on Jesse’s stomach, gross and enticing in some perverse way, before he pries Jesse’s hands from his hips and lifts himself free. He’s lacking some of his usual grace as he gets his feet on the floor and stands, wincing with a little groan.  
  
“Y’okay sugar?” Jesse murmurs, barely keeping his eyes open. He personally feels like he’s been run over by a semi or five, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen all burning, but to be fair, he’d been doing most of the work.  
  
“Just not the kind of thing my knees are used to,” Gabe says, shaking out a leg. He grimaces again, then looks down at Jesse, who’s still lying there like he’s been left for dead. Gabe reaches down and thumbs at his lip. “You’ve got blood.”  
  
Jesse licks over where he touched, feeling the sting. He already doesn’t remember how it’d happened. “Worth it,” he sighs, more to himself than anything, fumbling to get the condom off his dick and tied up before he passes out.  
  
He blinks awake a second time—or maybe it’s the third—to Gabe sliding into bed next to him and pulling the comforter over them both. It takes an effort to roll over towards him but Jesse manages. Gabe scoops him into an arm so that Jesse is spooned close against his side, making it real damn easy to snuggle up on him and plant a few kisses to his neck.  
  
“Ain’t it a little early to be goin’ back to sleep, sweetheart?” Jesse asks, mumbling while his lips are occupied. Pleased as he is with the notion of spending the rest of the morning in bed together, after all the times Gabe poked fun at him for knocking off after sex he can’t just let this occasion go by unremarked.  
  
“I’ve already gotten more done than you’ll do all day,” Gabe mutters back.  
  
Jesse nuzzles at his shoulder and hums. “Guess you do get credit for bringin’ me breakfast in bed.”  
  
“Shut it before I kick you out.”  
  
“You say the sweetest things, baby,” Jesse coos, giving him a quick, affectionate squeeze around the middle and one last kiss before he settles in for good.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabe stays in bed despite being unable to fall into an easy sleep, like Jesse had managed without a second thought. He lies still with the other man half wrapped around him while he wallows in soreness, twinging knees and an ache in his ass the reward of being far too hasty for his first time taking a dick in years. It hadn’t been his best idea, knowing Jesse isn’t exactly average sized and still being too stubborn to go slow. Having a tongue up his ass did not, generally, lend itself to making reasonable decisions.

He shifts around a few times to try and find a comfortable position but soon gives it up as impossible, and by then he’s too awake to have any chance at drifting off anyway, as much as he would like to. He would rather take his wallowing to the couch where at least he could be watching TV instead of staring at the ceiling, and he looks down with some resentment at Jesse, who seems perfectly cozy as he is: snuggled up close, warm breath trickling over Gabe’s collarbone, spoiling his desire to leave.

Gabe sighs heavily through his nose. He doesn’t even have his phone, left it in kitchen when he’d gotten back from his run and had a glass of water. All he has to do is unwind himself from Jesse’s arms and legs and he’d be free—same as any other morning when he wakes up after Jesse spent the night—but he only waits another minute, another five, feeling like a special brand of idiot the entire time. 

He chooses not to examine how very similar that feeling is to the one he’d gotten before, when he’d found himself standing in his bathroom for a long minute with a new toothbrush in his hand, deciding whether to put it on the counter or drop it in the wastebasket. He’d passed by the shelf at the store and picked it up without thinking much more than why not, because he’s not particularly fond of morning breath and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Jesse to bring one, but honestly, _what the fuck is he doing?_

He has no idea. Jesse had liked the toothbrush, though.

It’s maybe an hour before Jesse finally stirs, first sliding his leg up underneath the comforter, then tightening his arm around Gabe’s ribs and nosing into his neck with a deep sigh and a brush of lips and unshaved chin. 

Gabe waits for him to say something; he knows Jesse is awake because when he sleeps he’s like the dead otherwise, completely motionless; but after a few seconds of silence he realizes the fool isn’t planning on going anywhere. 

“Get up already,” Gabe says. 

“Five more minutes,” Jesse mumbles. 

“No,” Gabe says, and pushes him off to the side so he can sit up at last and swing his legs out of bed, ignoring yet another sharp twinge from his backside.

Jesse flops over behind him, groaning loud and melodramatic, “How can such a beautiful man be so cruel?”

“Listen to yourself, that might be a clue,” Gabe dryly suggests, then he gets up and goes to the clean clothes he’d left on his bureau. A minute later Jesse climbs out of bed and comes up behind him, sliding arms around his waist like he really can’t bear to be away for even that long.

“Is there coffee yet?” he murmurs, pressing some kisses to the skin left above the collar of Gabe’s t-shirt.

“I’ll make some,” Gabe says, and turns to catch a kiss on the mouth before he remembers too late the last place those lips had been. He frowns. “Go take a shower.”

“Mm. Thanks, baby,” Jesse says. He lets go with a gentle pat for Gabe’s ass, and Gabe leaves him to get cleaned up while he goes to the kitchen.

According to his phone it’s quarter to eleven, a ridiculous time to be getting out of bed. He must have let Jesse sleep for longer than he thought. It’s too late now to eat anything with lunch just around the corner, so he gets the coffeemaker going and takes out two mugs, filling one as soon as there’s enough in the pot for himself then bringing it into the living room to drink it on the couch. 

Jesse eventually appears in just his underwear, combing his fingers through his damp hair, and makes a beeline for the kitchen while Gabe’s still looking for something worth watching on TV that isn’t weekend morning news or home improvement shows. He’s eyeing some poker tournament that ESPN is showing when Jesse returns, nose in the mug Gabe left out for him.

“Mmm,” Jesse hums. “Best part of wakin’ up. Oh hey, is that Hold ’Em?” 

“Looks like it,” Gabe says, then lifts his arm out of the way and over the back of the couch as Jesse decides to sit right up next to him, propping both feet on the edge of the coffee table and smelling like Gabe’s shampoo. “Don’t know why they broadcast this shit on a sports network.”

Jesse scoffs. “Better’n golf.”

“Golf is a sport,” Gabe points out.

“Maybe, but who wants to watch it? Bunch of guys with their little balls, walking around dressed like assholes.” Jesse brushes the notion away with wave of his hand. “Even go fish would be more excitin’.”

Gabe smirks, because he does like watching golf; it’s relaxing and he doesn’t give a shit if he’s already that much of an old man. Instead of arguing from that angle though, he gestures to the screen with his coffee mug. “These guys look like assholes, too.”

“That’s different,” Jesse says, and taps two fingers to his temple. “It’s all about the mind game, sugar. They need those bad outfits to fool the other guys into underestimatin’ them.”

“Uh-huh,” Gabe says, hiding his full amusement with a drink. “You must be pretty good at poker, then.”

Jesse just laughs out loud and gives a shake of his head. “That was mean, honey, but I can’t say it ain’t true.” 

They bicker back and forth through commercials and coffee refills, about poker strategies and what belongs on ESPN and why or why not, until Gabe finally notes the time and asks, “Staying for lunch?”

“Oh fuck, where’s my phone,” Jesse says, jumping up from where he’d gotten himself situated under Gabe’s arm. He disappears to the bedroom, and Gabe rolls his eyes and collects the empty mugs for the dishwasher. 

He doesn’t get a chance to make it to the couch again before Jesse is in the hallway, dressed and putting his phone away with upset written on his face.

“Sorry baby, I was supposed to meet up with some people and they’re already pissed,” he says, mournfully.

“Good job with that,” Gabe remarks with a faint grin, coming to a stop in front of him, hands slid into the pockets of his loose sweats.

“Shut up,” Jesse grouses. He tugs his jacket into place on his shoulders, then steps in to take Gabe by the hips and kiss him twice, soundly, thumbs sneaking under Gabe’s shirt. When he pulls back he’s pouting, which shouldn’t be cute on a man who can’t be that far from thirty. “I’d rather get lunch with you. Next time?”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees. 

Jesse kisses him once more before leaving, and Gabe sits back down to watch the rest of the poker game while considering for the umpteenth time how fucked he might actually be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
